Bae and the Blue Hat
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: As a youngster growing up in the Dark Castle, Baelfire was surrounded by many magical objects, all of which his father forbade him to touch. One day he discovers a blue hat, and decides to disobey his father, only to discover that there really WAS a reason for all of Rumple's dictates and his folly might cost him more than he was willing to pay, for all magic comes with a price.
1. Home Sweet Home

**A/N: This story is set in Fairy Tale Land and is a companion piece to my novel Yours, Mine, and Rumplestiltskin's. It details the hat incident referred to by Bae, Rennie, and Finn.**

**1**

**Home Sweet Home**

Baelfire Gold, recently made lieutenant of the mercenary company the Card Captors, which was based at the Gold Castle on the hill above the village of Valley Way, headed down the short path to the cottage where he lived with his wife and two-year-old daughter. In a few more months they would be four, as Serenity was expecting again, he mused as he strode down the path with the easy light steps of a born swordsman. Bae was a tall muscular young man, lean and fit from the hours he spent sparring with the men under his command, teaching them the finer points of sword fighting. He had thick curly dark hair, which he kept trimmed short, so no enemy could grab it in battle, thickly lashed dark brown eyes and a handsome face with a mobile mouth that was usually smiling or joking around with his recruits, though one and all of them would obey him if necessary. Bae had the reputation of the best swordsman in the company, save for their captain. He was sometimes referred to as the Gold swordsman, both a play on his surname and a nod to his famous father, Rumplestiltskin, the Gold sorcerer, who lived in the castle on the hill.

Today it had been storming, and the skies were still deep gray and threatening to let loose again with a torrential downpour. The ground was muddy, so Bae carefully picked his way through the puddles, his boots squelching in the muck, his navy all-weather waterproof cloak, spelled by Rumple, pulled close about him, the hood obscuring his dark hair. His elven sword, Azariel, jingled slightly by his side as he walked. Bae was wearing the typical uniform of a Card Captor lieutenant, soft gray trousers tucked into black boots, a cream colored shirt and a sky blue tunic over it with the Card Captor logo of a deuce in chains on the left breast and two chevrons on the shoulders to indicate officer's rank. The Card Captors had gotten their name long before Bae joined them because they had driven the evil Queen of Heart's card army back into Wonderland and stopped an invasion of the kingdoms of Fairy Tale Land.

He reached his cottage, which was set back from the castle proper on some twenty-five acres of land, in about five minutes. The front yard had an apple tree in it and large hedges of pink and purple roses surrounded the covered veranda, speed grown by his nature witch sister, Jasmine. Hyacinths and impatiens bloomed in neat rows about the west side of the cottage, which was also where his wife, Serenity, had a small herb and vegetable garden. Behind the cottage was a small barn and the pasture where he turned out Flicker, his stallion, and they also had a goat, Sunny, and a handful of chickens.

The cottage was small but roomy, built of sturdy blocks of gold flecked stone, the stone had been taken from parts of the Gold Castle which had been ruined in the long ago battle with the Evil Queen's forces. The roof was formed of heavy mats of thatched straw intermixed with tiny colorful flowers, which helped keep bugs and other pests out of it. On the windows facing the castle, Rennie had planted a profusion of petunias and geraniums in boxes, but today the shutters were drawn tight because of the weather, though normally they were flung open to let the fresh air and sunshine in. Smoke rose in lazy tendrils from the stone chimney on the east side.

Bae came up the porch steps and paused to scrape his feet on the mat and use the bootjack there to remove his boots before he stepped into the house and walked on Rennie's freshly scrubbed wooden floors.

He threw open the blue door with its round window at the top of it and called cheerily, "Hey, Rennie, Davina, I'm home!"

Stepping inside, he carefully shut the door and unclasped his cloak, which was slightly wet, hanging it on the peg for that purpose to the right of the door, next to his wife's smaller green one and Davina's tiny rose colored one. He also unbuckled his sword belt and hung it on the opposite side on the hooks made for it. There was a short entry way before you got to the main room, which was a combination of a kitchen and den, with a huge fireplace and a cupboard, table, and chairs situated near the east side, as well as a stove and a wall oven. A braided rug lay before the hearth and a brown and white collie puppy napped upon it, waking when he heard Bae's familiar footsteps and racing across the floor to fling himself upon the master of the house, panting and wagging his tail.

"Hello, Gabe," Bae greeted the puppy, kneeling and ruffling the puppy's ears. "Have you been a good boy today? No more chewing Rennie's slippers, eh?"

Gabriel whined happily deep in his throat and licked Bae's hands, then barked and ran around in circles before returning to the half-eaten bone lying on the rug in front of the crackling fire.

A cradle of logs was stacked beside the hearth and two comfy chairs were set before it, one had a box next to it with his wife's mending and a basket filled with quilt scraps. The other had a small box filled with scraps of wood and leather beside it. A small table was between them and had a half-filled cup of tea on it. Behind it was a long low brown leather sofa with some pillows tossed on it and a few of Davina's stuffed animals.

A ladder on the western side of the room led to a loft above, where they stored supplies and also had a pallet in case a relative or friend stopped by for the night and needed a bed.

Inbetween the den and the kitchen area was a passageway leading to the bedrooms, small bathroom and a cold room. The passageway led out to a back door that opened onto a large yard. From the outside, the cottage appeared smaller than the space alloted on the inside, since it had been built using a space warp spell designed by Rumplestiltskin. Above the curved entryway was a wooden sign with carved grapes and vines on it that read _A Merry Heart Makes A Happy Home_, it had been a housewarming gift from his stepmother, Belle. Inside, the cottage was lit by several oil lamps and some recessed mageglobes above the hearth which could be turned off and on by clapping one's hands. Even though Bae and Rennie didn't have magic's Gift, several members in their huge family did and they were happy to provide them with magical amenities for the price of one of Rennie's home cooked meals. A wooden toy box was placed off to one side of the entryway, and a few dolls and some blocks spilled onto the floor beside it.

Bae sniffed the air appreciatively just as his wife of five years came through the entryway into the main room with Davina close behind her. Bae caught Rennie up in a hug and said, "Something sure smells good in here, sweetheart. What are you cooking?"

"Ham and bean stew with a side of fresh bread," she laughed and kissed him, her blue eyes glowing. She was twenty-two to his twenty-three, with dark hair that tumbled down her back in waves and a face that rivaled that of her mother for its beauty. She wore a pretty calico dress and a white apron over it, as she had been grinding up herbs in her stillroom. "There's some bread and cheese, and honey and butter on the table, along with a jug of cider," she waved a hand at the table. "I know you're usually starving when you come home."

"Uh huh. Sparring normally works up an appetite," he said, "and I'm always hungry for your cooking, Ren."

A tiny girl with dark curly hair like her father's suddenly ran and grabbed him about the knees, crying, "Papa! Papa, kiss me next!"

He swept his little girl up in his arms, kissing her cheek and asking, "How's my best girl today? Have you been good for Mama?"

"Umm . . ." Davina suddenly glanced away, a guilty look in her cornflower blue eyes.

"Someone's been very naughty today," Rennie said, sighing.

Bae raised an eyebrow, and then said, in a mildly stern tone, "What have you done now, Miss Davina Belle Gold?"

His child looked at her frilly pink muslin frock and ruffled stockings, her lower lip trembling pathetically at her father's disapproving tone. "Umm . . . I touched Mama's scissors. An' . . . an' I broked a jar with gillyflowers in it." She started sniffling even before he had a chance to scold her, reminding him of himself at that age.

"I was in the bathroom for about a minute or so, washing my hands because I'd been cutting up onions," Rennie informed him. "I was going to make some tonics in my stillroom and left her playing with Gaby on the rug. When I came out, she was gone and Gaby was dragging my yarn across the floor. By the time I got him squared away, I heard a crash and I came into my stillroom to see this little imp standing with my scissors in one hand and a broken jar of gillyflowers at her feet."

Bae shook his head. "I'm very disappointed in you, young lady. You know better than to touch what doesn't belong to you, dearie," he said, unconsciously aping his father as he scolded his daughter.

"But I just wanted to hold it," the little scamp whimpered, huge tears gathering in her eyes. "M'sorry, Papa. Mama put me in the corner for_ever_."

"It was four minutes," his wife snorted.

"To her that's forever," Bae said, half-amused. Then he said quietly, "It looks like we need to have another talk about keeping those sticky fingers to yourself, hmm?"

"Yes, Papa," Davina said unhappily.

He set her down, saying, "Go wait for me on the couch while I get something to eat."

Davina obeyed, going over to the couch and climbing on it. She hugged her green blankie to her and sulked quietly, her lower lip sticking out adorably as she waited.

Bae moved into the kitchen and cut himself some bread and cheese, spreading one piece with butter and honey and pouring himself a glass of cider as well. He sat down at the table and ate, listening as Rennie talked about the rest of her day, which had been uneventful until Davina's little mishap. "I'm lucky she didn't cut herself on the glass," his wife said, "even though Mama and Clary are right up in the castle if I needed to bring her to get medical help. As soon as I saw what had happened, I picked her up and scolded her and put her in time out, then I cleaned up everything with a broom. Gods, what a mess! Gillyflowers are the devil to get off of a floor."

"Kind of like honey," he remarked, referring to a time when Davina had dropped a jar of honey on the floor when he was watching her and the sticky stuff had taken him an hour to scrub off. "I'll talk with her, Ren, and see if I can't make an impression on her to quit touching things."

"I know it's normal at her age, to be curious and into everything, but some days she tries my patience to the limit, Bae. Sometimes I wonder how Mama ever did it, raising ten of us on her own and then eighteen after she married Papa," his wife sighed, she was actually the daughter of her mother Belle's first marriage to Gaston, a knight, and Bae was the son of his father's first marriage to Milah, a pirate queen. The two had met long before their parents, both single with lots of children, had begun courting and married each other.

"I do too. But we'll manage, Ren. It's like Papa always says, it's a phase and she'll grow out of it," Bae said calmly, eating another piece of cheese.

"It's a good thing you've got your papa's temperament and not Milah's," his wife remarked.

"Gods forbid I should ever be like that harpy," Bae said disparagingly. He had no fondness for his birth mother, who had abandoned his father, baby sister, and himself when he was three to go off adventuring with her pirate lover Hook across the seven seas. She had later returned with Hook and kidnapped three of his sisters, but it had come to naught and they had been rescued and been made to pay for their crimes by Rumple and Belle. She and her pirate husband were now doing hard time in the salt mines of Attica, for allying themselves with the Evil Queen and attempting to loot, pillage, and destroy Rumplestiltskin and his family, sending an army to invade the Gold Castle in an attempt to avenge themselves upon him. That effort too had failed, thanks to the help of their friends, neighbors, and the Card Captors, though it had been a hard fought battle and had cost them dearly before it was over.

It had been the first major engagement Bae had ever fought in. He had been eighteen at the time and only betrothed to Rennie, but he had proved himself an able soldier, along with his brother-in-law, James "Charming" Shepherd, who was now married to Bae's adopted sister, Snow White. They were now the parents of Emma, Bae and Rennie's goddaughter.

Currently, Snow and Charming were trying to win back their kingdom from the usurper Regina, the Evil Queen. That would be the next big engagement Bae would take part in, though that time was not yet, as they were not finished consolidating all their forces for an attack on the Enchanted Forest. So Bae had time yet to spend with his small family, and impart some rather hard-earned wisdom to his scamp of a child.

While Rennie was hanging the wash on the line inside by the stove, since the weather was bad, Bae went and sat next to his daughter. Davina inevitably climbed in his lap, because even when he scolded her she liked to be near him. "Are you mad, Papa?" she asked in her childish lisp, she was missing a front tooth.

"No, scamp. Just a little disappointed that you keep forgetting what we told you about touching things," he said.

"My mem'ry's no good," she answered honestly.

His mouth quirked up and he said, "Maybe I'd better help your memory by telling you a little story, Davina."

"What kind of 'tory, Papa?"

Bae cleared his throat. "This story is about Papa when he was a little boy, about the same age as your Uncle Phillip is now, around twelve," he told her. "It's about a time when I touched something I shouldn't have, Davina, just like you touched Mama's scissors and her jar of gillyflowers."

Davina's eyes grew wide as she processed this information. She stared up at her father and said, "You mean, _you_ was bad too once, Papa?"

"Uh . . . yes, I was," Bae admitted, flushing slightly.

"Did Granpa 'mack you an' put you in time out too?" she queried artlessly.

"Uh . . . well, you'll see," her father replied, his lips twitching again. Dearest gods, but his baby girl was too smart! "Are you ready to hear my story?"

"Yes! Yes!" Davina shrilled, bouncing up and down on him.

"Okay. Put on your listening ears, Davina mine," he instructed. Then he began, in the way all such tales do, "Once upon a time, back when the Gold Castle was known as the Dark Castle, I lived there with your grandpa, Uncle Finn, and Aunt Ivy, since your other aunts and uncles hadn't been adopted yet and come there. One day when I was twelve, my papa took me aside and told me I was in charge of Uncle Finn and Aunt Ivy while he went down to the village to help Big Hans cure his bull Brahama, who was under a mange curse from a hedge witch who'd tried to cheat him the day before in a card game . . ."


	2. The Sorcerer's Apprentice

**2**

**The Sorcerer's Apprentice**

Rumplestiltskin, known as the Gold sorcerer to the villagers below the castle, didn't often leave his abode on the hill to make house calls, unless it was a dire emergency. But Big Hans, the local hero and the richest man in Valley Way, who'd once owned the goose that laid the golden eggs and now owned the tavern, the inn, and one of the biggest houses in town, had come knocking on the door of the Dark Castle that morning and practically begged the Gold sorcerer to come and treat his prize black bull, Brahama, who was suffering from an acute case of mange.

The bull had been cursed by a wily hedge witch, the kind of sorcerer who gave all of his ilk an unsavory reputation, because Hans had caught him cheating at cards down at the tavern last night. The hedge witch had been caught redhanded trying to magic his cards, so he'd have the winning hand and take the pot of fifty gold pieces, much to Hans' dismay. Now Hans was usually a bluff easy-going fellow, but dishonest cheats always made his blood boil. So he'd tossed the weasely fellow out on his ear by the seat of his pants and told him to never set foot in Valley Way again if he wanted a whole skin.

No one had protested, and the hedge witch had slunk off, supposedly to get out of town. The sorcerer had left, but before doing so had witched Hans' bull, and now the big man was desperate to get the bull back in prime condition before sending him out to stud half the cows of the village. So, as was usual when something went wrong magically, Hans came up to ask Rumple for a favor.

Rumple had agreed to help the bluff man, for a price. To be specified at a later date, since there was nothing the sorcerer or his current brood of three children needed right then. Hans had agreed promptly, knowing that while Rumple drove a hard bargain, he was not evil, and the price would not be one he would be unwilling to pay.

But that left Rumple in a quandary, for now he had to leave the castle and go down into the village, which he didn't like doing, since that meant leaving his three children unsupervised. Still, a deal was a deal, and this would only take him about an hour to reverse the charm, as they had to catch the bull first and let Rumple examine him and figure out exactly what that idiot hedge witch had cast before he could make a countercharm.

So he called his oldest son, Baelfire, over to him and explained where he was going and what he needed to do. "You're in charge of Ivy and Finn, dearie, until I return," he said to his son, who was usually an obedient and responsible child, and rarely prone to getting into mischief anymore. "I should be back soon, but you three still have some chores to complete before suppertime. There's the dishes to wash and the floor to be scrubbed and the downstairs parlor needs to be dusted and you can have Finn help Ivy gather some vegetables for dinner and hang the wash on the line." That was plenty to keep his twelve, nine, and eight-year-old busy until his return, thought the sorcerer. And any of his truly dangerous magical items were locked up safely beyond the reach of curious small hands.

"Okay, Papa. I'll make sure everything's done on time," Bae promised.

"Good. I'll make sure Ivy and Finn know they're to listen to you while I'm down in Valley Way," Rumple said, then went to find his two other children.

Once everything had been spelled out, Rumple departed the castle, saddling his black mare, Rogue, and riding down to Hans' farm.

Bae looked at his two younger siblings. Ivy was his younger sister by three years, a small clever girl with dark wavy hair and her papa's thoughtful brown eyes, wearing a simple yellow dress with pink rosebuds on it and brown shoes and a white apron. She usually helped Rumple cook, as that was her passion, and when she wasn't cooking or doing some other chore, she could be found with her nose in a book, as she was a voracious reader. Finn was his adopted brother, the youngest at eight, with sandy hair and green eyes, wearing his favorite blue tunic, white shirt, and matching blue trousers. He was a former minstrels' son, and had bardic magic, and could play the flute and drums beautifully. He was having lessons with Rumple every afternoon, learning how to control his wild magic, which could summon people and animals or even inanimate objects to do his bidding, as well as influence people with his magic to feel or do things, like dance continuously. Rumple, however, had forbidden the boy to use his magic without permission, and Finn had promised he wouldn't.

"I'm going to play my flute," the younger boy declared, and pulled out his rosewood flute and began to play a lively tune on it.

Ivy skipped a little to the music and clapped her hands, saying, "Play some more, Finn!"

Bae sighed and said, "We're supposed to be finishing up our chores. Papa said so."

"We'll do them," Finn answered. "Just not yet." He played another rollicking country tune.

Ivy grabbed Bae's arm and twirled about with him, saying, "C'mon, Bae! Don't be such an old stick. Even if Papa did leave you in charge, that's no reason to act totally boring, like an actual grown-up."

Bae twirled about with Ivy, not wanting to seem like some boring old man, but after about ten minutes he said, "We'd better at least start doing our chores, because if we don't and Papa comes back and sees this place still a wreck, we'll all go to bed without dessert tonight."

"Okay! I'll help Ivy with the laundry and the vegetables," Finn sighed, and tucked his flute back in his belt.

He followed his sister out the kitchen door and into the yard.

Bae stared at the mound of dirty dishes—pots, pans, utensils and so forth—piled in the sink and groaned. Washing dishes was his least favorite chore in the world, worse even than mucking out Rogue and Bluebird the cow's stalls. Yet he knew it had to get done, and was lucky Rumple had let it go that long since lunchtime. And since Ivy and Finn were already doing chores outside, this one and washing the floor fell to him today.

He heaved a sigh that came from the tips of his black leather boots and wished he was practicing his sword routines with Uncle Jeff, his father's best friend who was a mercenary, or whitewashing the pasture fence, anything but washing dishes and scrubbing miles of the kitchen floor and the foyer, which always seemed to take forever.

Procrastinating just a little now that he was faced with this most detested chore, Bae wandered out of the kitchen and upstairs to stare longingly at his wooden practice sword hanging on the wall of the bedroom he shared with Finn. How he longed to take the sword down and practice the forms Jeff had showed him! But he knew better than to start practicing sword forms before finishing his chores, because he'd forget to stop and do them and then his father would come home and he'd be in trouble.

His feet dragging, he reluctantly left the sword on the wall and went down the hallway. He paused outside the door to Rumple's study, which was where the sorcerer often did accounts and wrote in his big book about the deals he had made and what price he asked for them. Bae thought his papa was the smartest man in seven kingdoms and he admired the sorcerer greatly. Once Rumple had been under a curse, a slave to the magic of the dagger of the Dark One, but through Bae, Ivy, and Finn's unconditional love for him and his for them, they had broken the power of the dagger to pieces, and restored Rumplestiltskin, the Dark Beast, to the man he'd once been, the master spinner and loving father Bae knew best.

But that had been three years ago, and now Rumple was a reputable sorcerer, one whom the villagers sought out for his magical charms, potions, and spells. Bae was proud of his father, and he sometimes longed, with a fierce hot ache, to be able to wield magic the way Rumple did. Magic made things so much easier, he thought wistfully. And even though he knew that all magic came with a price, he thought sometimes the price was worth paying, especially if it got him out of doing his blasted chores sooner rather than later.

_If I can't be a soldier, I'd just as soon be a sorcerer, _Bae thought, and he walked into the study, where Rumple kept some of his magical objects, like a golden cup that always poured fresh water, and a cloak that made you invisible, and boots that made you quieter than a cat on the hunt. Now Baelfire knew quite well Rumplestiltskin's rule—if it doesn't belong to you, don't touch it. Or the old _look with your eyes and not with your hands_, as old Miranda down in Shoe House used to say. He knew it went doubly so for any sort of enchanted items Rumple had sitting on the shelves in his study. The sorcerer had stressed over and over to all of his children that magic was not a toy, and the magical objects he'd collected were not to be played with . . . ever.

Bae stood before the bookshelf in the study, a bookshelf filled with leather-bound tomes of magical texts he couldn't read, and eyed the items on the shelves. There was a golden ball that could float and light your way in the dark, a diadem that could make the wearer speak the truth, a scarf that kept one perpetually warm, puppets that danced to a tune only they could hear, a bag of dice that were always lucky, a wand that could shoot fireworks on command, amulets of protection and even a magic sword called the Whisperer that could make you fight like the best warrior ever for an hour, though that last was locked up in a case with a glass lid.

But out of all the mystical objects in the study, Bae was most curious about the blue hat that rested right on the shelf next to a midnight blue spellbook. The blue hat was made of soft felt, and pointed, with silver stars and moons on it, a real sorcerer's cap.

The hat was a mystery, the one thing Bae had no idea exactly what it did. He didn't even know where his father had gotten it, and when he had asked once what its powers were, Rumple had said only, "It does what the wearer wishes . . . for a price. And it's not for little boys to play with, Baelfire."

Bae had his hands in the pockets of his black vest, and he was thinking rapidly about how long it would take him to wash all the dishes and scrub the blasted floor in the kitchen and the foyer. At least an hour, and by the time he was finished it'd be time to help get supper on the table and after that clean up and he'd have no time at all for doing anything fun. _If only I had magic like Papa. Then all I'd have to do was snap my fingers and all the dishes would be done-shazam! And I'd clap my hands and the broom would sweep the floor for me and a mop could wash it and I'd be done in like ten minutes. Oh, why couldn't I have been born with magic like Finn? Then I could be Papa's apprentice and a powerful sorcerer._

He began to daydream a little, about learning magic alongside Finn, and wearing the blue hat and a matching robe, and standing out in front of the whole village and amazing everyone with his magical prowess. He'd be known far and wide as Baelfire the Magnificent, and be able to reverse any curse and cure any illness, and juggle five fireballs at once, slay dragons, and negotiate with ogres, and speak with all the beasts and birds of the forest. People would whisper his name in awe and come to him to help find their missing children or punish a thief who had stolen their purse or get a charm to make them beautiful. He could ride the back of the wind, and call lightning to smite his enemies, and change into seven notes of music or a growling tiger or quicksilver falcon. Kings and princes would pay handsomely for his services and ask him to solve riddles for him, and rescue their daughters from evil witches in towers.

He was so caught up in his daydreams that he forgot that time was passing, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the clock on Rumple's desk had struck the half-hour, and he still didn't have the dishes washed or the floor cleaned.

And his father would be coming home in half an hour.

_Aww, hells!_ He grumbled. _Now I'm late and this sucks!_ He peered once more at the hat—the innocent looking blue hat that could do whatever the wearer wished. He bit his lip. He knew he shouldn't . . . the hat wasn't a toy . . . but just this once . . . maybe it would be all right. He'd use the hat to wash the dishes and the floor, just for a few minutes would be all it took, and then he could put it back and nobody would ever know.

And just for a little while, he could pretend he was like Rumplestiltskin, a mighty sorcerer.

He worried his lip back and forth and glanced at the clock. Time was flying and if he didn't want to spend his whole afternoon washing and scrubbing and being bored out of his mind . . .

His hands reached up almost of their own accord and picked up the hat.

Tucking it under his arm, he raced down the stairs and into the kitchen.

There stood the mountain of dishes, encrusted with the remains of the soup Ivy had made for lunch and the eggs and grease from the sausage they'd eaten for breakfast, among other things. And it would take him at least an hour just to wash everything, let alone dry it and put it away. Unless he used the hat.

He took the hat and put it on his head.

It was too big, and fell over his eye. So he shoved it back on his head, and then he felt it—a shivery tingly feeling as the hat suddenly shrank and fit tight to his head.

He felt the magic within the enchanted cloth come to life and surge through him, almost like touching lightning.

_Command me._

The voice seemed to come from inside his head.

"Huh? You—you can _talk_?" he gasped.

_Command me._

"Hopping hells!" he gasped. "You're not only a magic hat, you're a talking magic hat! All right!"

_Command me._

Bae cleared his throat, then said with all the presence his twelve-year-old self could muster, "I, Balefire the Magnificent, son of Rumplestiltskin, command you to wash all those dishes! Wash them, dry them, and put them away! Now!"

He felt the hat quiver and suddenly the moons and stars upon it began to glow like fireflies, shooting beams of light all over. He felt suddenly dizzy, but then he rubbed his eyes and it went away.

And the water in the sink began running all by itself and mixing with soap that appeared out of nowhere. Next thing he knew, a scrub brush and a sponge popped up and began to wash all the dishes, pots, and pans.

He stared in amazement as the brush scrubbed the encrusted grease and goop off at an astonishing rate, leaving the pots and pans sparkling clean as the day they'd been bought.

"Yes!" he cheered and then gasped as the pots and pans floated over to where some dishcloths waited, lined up in the air like soldiers, and began to dry the clean dishes, pots, and utensils.

When they were dry, they all floated over to the cupboard and cabinets and the drawers opened and they placed themselves inside, or hung themselves from the hooks above the counter.

"That's _so_ awesome!" he shouted. "I love this hat!" Then he pointed a hand at the broom standing in the corner and cried, "Broom, sweep the floor! Mop, bucket, scrub the floor till it shines like a mirror! On the double!"

The broom suddenly began to whisk itself across the floor, so vigorously that the dirt flew around in clouds before the dustpan snatched it up and it vanished.

Bae coughed, then backed away as the broom whirled about the kitchen in a crazed dance.

"Go do the foyer!" he ordered when the broom started coming too close to him.

It obeyed, flying out the kitchen door and into the foyer, where it raced about collecting dust and making the air heavy with the particles of dirt it was sweeping up.

Bae rubbed his forehead, it was beginning to ache suddenly.

But he ignored it, caught up in the wonder of the animated objects, and the fact that he didn't have to do anything but watch while the chores did themselves.

"I am the sorcerer's apprentice!" he yelled suddenly, filled with false pride at his accomplishments. "Now work faster! Faster!"

The mop suddenly morphed into three mops, and they walked about the kitchen and the foyer, growing hands out of the wooden handles—hands that went and grabbed multiple buckets and filled them from the well that stood in the kitchen courtyard.

Buckets sloshing with water, the mops poured them onto the floor, and they magically became filled with soapsuds, and the mops skated and swished the soapy water about and the scrub brushes appeared and scrubbed the flagstones at a furious rate, back and forth, faster and faster.

Bae felt his head swim suddenly, and he clutched the end of the kitchen table. The hat was still glowing and shooting beams of magical light, and for some reason it was growing tighter about his head.

But he just rubbed his temples and grinned. Soon his chores would be done and then he could go out and practice. He yawned. Then again, maybe he'd take a nap instead. Commanding magical hats was hard work for some reason.

Just as the mops and brushes had finished scrubbing the floor, the back door opened and Finn and Ivy walked in, their arms full of carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes for tonight's supper.

Both children halted, their eyes almost bugging out, when they saw what was going on in the kitchen.

Finn dropped half his produce on the floor and cried, "Bae! I didn't know you could do magic too!"

"Finn! Now you've gotten tomato all over the floor," Ivy cried, then she gasped as a mop zoomed in and scrubbed the stain away, leaving a trail of soapsuds in its wake. "Bae! What's happening? How come these mops are . . . are like this?"

"Don't worry, Ivy!" Bae called, coming into the kitchen. "I've got it all under control."

His sister's mouth fell open when she saw him. "Baelfire! That's Papa's hat! And you're . . . you're wearing it!"

"I know! Isn't it great? I just thought I'd see what it did, and then when I put it on, I told it to wash all the dishes and the floor for me and it did! Look!"

"I am looking!" Ivy cried. "There's water all over the floor!"

"Oh, quit worrying!" Bae told her. "It'll be fine."

"Fine? You're using magic and you aren't supposed to," she snapped. "Papa's gonna kill you when he finds out."

"Only if you tell," Bae refuted, his eyes flashing. "And you're not a tattletale, now are you?"

Ivy went red. "Of course not, Bae! But . . . but how did you get the hat to do what you wanted?"

"I just put it on and told it what to do," he replied blithely, ducking as more mops popped up and began scrubbing the floor.

"But . . . what about magic's price?" she sputtered.

Bae shrugged. "I don't know. It . . . it never said."

Finn looked horrified. "You . . . you didn't ask about the price before you used the hat?"

"No. All I wanted it for was to wash the dishes and the floor. How bad could the price be?" asked the young would-be sorcerer.

"Oh my gods!" Ivy wailed. "Bae! The price could be . . . anything!"

But Bae was too caught up in the moment, congratulating himself on getting all his chores done with magic, and paid no attention to the horrified looks his siblings were giving him and the hat, which was now glowing like a star gone nova atop his head.

By now twenty mops were marching back and forth from the well into the castle, each one with full bucket of water that they dumped on the floor and swished about. Over and over again they did this, until Ivy felt water swirl about her ankles and dampen the hem of her dress.

She looked down and saw that she and Finn were standing in a growing puddle of soapy water.

Water was flowing like a river all over the kitchen and out into the foyer.

"Baelfire! Tell it to stop! It's making a flood!"

"Yeah! My shoes are all soaked!" Finn yelped, climbing on a chair.

It was then Bae realized that the hat might have taken things a bit too far.

There was almost six inches of water on the floor now and no sign that the hat was going to stop washing any time soon.

"Okay! Stop!" he yelled at the hat.

But unlike before, the hat didn't respond.

It just kept right on conjuring mops and buckets and filling the castle with water.

"Hey!" Bae yelled. "I _said_ stop!"

But the hat kept right on conjuring.

Bae was at a loss. "Ivy! What do I do? It's not listening to me!"

"You're asking me? I don't know!"

"Maybe you should try taking the hat off?" suggested Finn.

Bae put his hands on the hat, wincing as the fabric singed his fingers. "Oww! It's hot! I can't get it off!"

He tried tugging at the brim, but it was stuck stubbornly to his head, as if it were glued there.

"Stop! _Stop!_ **STOP!**" he screamed, to no avail.

The mop brigade was dumping more and more water onto the floor, and soon the kitchen and the foyer were covered in a foot of water, and soapy rivulets were running out the back door and into the sitting room, where the sofa and Rumple's wheel was sitting by the hearth.

By now Ivy had climbed upon the kitchen table and cried, "Bae! It's going to keep filling the castle with water unless you can make it stop! We could all drown!"

"Knock it off you stupid hat!" Bae shouted. "I command it!"

But it was like talking to a wall. Or a stubborn unheeding toddler.

"Finn! Quick! Use your flute!" Bae yelled. "Maybe your magic can cancel it out!"

"Papa said I'm not allowed."

"Papa's not here and I say you can! Now do it! Before you need to grow a tail and gills!"

Finn pulled out the rosewood flute and began to play a tune, trying to halt the hat's magic.

The flute's magic swirled through the air and curled around the hat, and for a minute Bae felt like his head was about to explode, as the two magics fought each other.

Finn played harder, feeling the hat's resistance to his song.

But the hat was very old, and the enchantment upon it eclipsed the power the young bard could command at that time.

Finn went pale and swayed in place, lowering his flute and grabbing the back of the chair before he fell off it. "I . . . I can't do anymore, Bae! It's too strong."

"Finn! Sit down!" Ivy yelped, grabbing him by the back of the tunic and yanking him down into a sitting position before he fell.

"Ivy, I feel dizzy," her brother groaned.

"Put your head down on the table," Ivy ordered. Then she turned back to Bae, and started yelling commands at the hat in the language of the desert people, the dialects of some of the other kingdoms, and even the grunting harsh speech of the ogres, all of which she had learned piecemeal from reading her father's journals, since Rumple had an ear for languages and the true names of things.

"_Barka_! _Hor auf dam! Smettere! Kuacha! Quir'hot!_"

"What the heck are you saying?" Finn asked, puzzled.

"I'm telling it to stop," Ivy said exasperatedly.

"I don't think it understands whatever you just said," Bae cried. "Halt! Cease! Just quit it, you stupid damn hat!" He shook his head, trying to dislodge the hat, but it refused to be removed, and now the water was up to his knees and tugging at him like a river in full flood after a massive rainstorm. Now he regretted ever giving into that impulse and putting the hat on.

Whatever good it had started out doing was now erased by its refusal to heed his commands, and if something weren't done soon, their home was going to become an undersea palace, just like Atlantis where the mer people lived.

"Please, _please_ just stop it!" Bae muttered frantically, while the mops continued their inexorable duty and kept scrubbing the floor like mindless puppets.

He no longer felt like a powerful sorcerer's apprentice. Just a foolish little boy who had disobeyed his father and was unable to stop what he'd begun. He wondered whether the mops would continue washing right up to the windows, forcing them all to swim out the back door?

Sweat trickled down his face as he felt the hat growing hotter and hotter, as if the magic within it was burning through the fabric. And into his head as well.

He lifted his head and looked towards the front doors of the castle. _Papa, where are you? I need you! Help me!_

As if his thoughts had somehow conjured him, Rumplestiltskin suddenly opened the doors and limped into the castle . . . and was nearly bowled over by the sudden flash flood of water that exploded out through the doors.

"Gods and hells!" he cried, grabbing onto the door frame. "What in blazes is going on here?"

He levitated himself above the rushing water and into the castle.

Where he saw a plethora of mops holding buckets of soapy water, scrub brushes cleaning a floor that was flooded . . . and Baelfire wearing the blue hat that was glowing brighter than the full moon on a starless night.

"Flaming hells!"

He gathered his power, then thrust out his hands and his will, saying in a tone that echoed like a bell through the hall, "**_Rialto!_**"

Which was the word "Cease!" in _il'Shennara,_ the tongue of the wood elves.

The mops collapsed and the hat ceased glowing and went limp atop Bae's head and everything was still, frozen in time.

For about five seconds.

Before Rumplestiltskin, wearing a scowl black as night on his normally calm features, used a come-hither charm on his disobedient son.

Bae found himself picked up by the back of the tunic by an invisible hand and dragged over to his irate father, who reached out and yanked the hat off of his son's head.

"Papa!" he gasped. "The hat . . . it . . . umm . . ." he stammered for the right words, anything to mitigate the fury upon his parent's face.

"You have some serious explaining to do, young man. Up to my study, Baelfire Gold! Immediately!"

He gestured, and Bae found himself floated over to the staircase, where he was set down with a jolt that rattled his bones.

_Oh, gods! I am so very dead!_ the would-be sorcerer thought, then bolted up the stairs like hellhounds were snapping at his heels. Which he might well wish was the case once Rumplestiltskin got through with him.

**A/N: Well, is Bae right? Just how much trouble is he in with Rumple?**


	3. Lessons Learned

**3**

**Lessons Learned**

"What happened next, Papa?" Davina asked, interrupting his narrative briefly.

"You'll see, if you'll hush and let me finish," Bae said, hiding a smirk. He supposed he was lucky she had been still for as long as she had. Most children her age had the attention spans of mayflies. "This next part I learned from Grandpa, he told me what had gone on while I was up in his study, waiting . . ."

Rumplestiltskin surveyed the damage done to the foyer and what appeared to be the kitchen also while still clutching the blue hat in one hand. He could hardly believe his eyes when he'd opened the door and found not only a flood inside his home, but Baelfire wearing the blue hat and conjuring up mischief with it. He would have expected Finn to get into trouble like that, or even Ivy, who had a curious streak about ten miles wide, but not Bae, who was normally an obedient and responsible boy.

He floated into the kitchen, and found Ivy and Finn crouched atop the table. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

"Papa! There was a flood and . . . umm . . ." Ivy began, and Rumple could tell she was trying to cover up Bae's mistake.

"The mops kept washing the floor," Finn interjected.

"Because your brother touched what didn't belong to him," Rumple finished. "Come here, dearies. I can take you all upstairs while I deal with your brother and this mess down here."

Finn and Ivy exchanged uneasy glances and Finn hissed, "Uh oh. I'll bet he ain't gonna be able to sit down till tomorrow morning."

Ivy looked upset. "Papa, he didn't know . . . about magic's price. What . . . what are you going to do to him?"

Rumple frowned. "That's between me and Bae, dearie." He held out his arms and his two younger children ran across the table and hugged him.

As soon as he was touching them, Rumple transported them all upstairs, where there was no flood, and told them to go and play or read quietly in the library while he went dealt with his eldest.

Ivy took Finn's hand and they headed into the library. Rumple wasn't surprised. Whenever Ivy was upset, she sought solace there, among her books and magazines. Finn would most likely play his flute to cheer her up.

The sorcerer turned and walked the opposite way towards his study, heaving a vast sigh of disappointment as he did so. He paused outside the study door, struggling, for the first time in a very long time, to control his temper.

He took several deep breaths, reminding himself that he had vowed long ago, after Milah had left with Hook, to never punish his children in anger. That was not the way a good father behaved, and Rumplestiltskin wanted to be the kind of father his children looked up to, and not one that ruled by intimidation and fear, the way his own had, or Milah had done with Bae as a toddler.

But he was so angry! Baelfire knew better, he wasn't a baby, and Rumple had stressed to each of his children more than once that magic was not something to be played around with. Not only that, but they all knew to never touch the collection of objects in his study without his permission, which he rarely gave.

He gazed down at the blue hat with its silver stars and moons, an object made by the _il'Shennara_, who called such things Hats of Wonder or Conjure, and considered such a thing commonplace, which it was for a race steeped in magic. Rumple had acquired this one through a trader who made his living peddling exotic magical items, he'd gotten the hat from a wood elf youngster, trading some magic beans for it. Rumple had traded a deck of magical Tarot cards for it, since he used fire and water to scry and had no real use for the deck. The trader hadn't known much about the blue hat, just the command word to make the hat stop whatever it was doing and the fact that anyone who used the hat had to pay a price.

Rumple recalled telling Baelfire that very thing awhile ago. _I should have known then that the hat might prove too great a temptation and locked it up, _a part of him thought regretfully. But another part, the part that was still furious, thought _He's old enough to know better, he's twelve, not two! He could have gotten himself and Finn and Ivy killed by fooling around like that. I ought to spank the living daylights out of him._

The sorcerer scowled, thoroughly disgusted at his son and upset that he had to punish the boy, but he knew better than to let Bae get away with such disobedience. He hadn't laid a hand on his son in years, the last time had been when Bae was four and he'd caught him playing with his carving knife. Then he'd given the boy two swats and made him stand in the corner for eight minutes. Now though . . . his son's transgression was much worse and therefore so would the consequences be as well.

Satisfied that he'd mastered his temper, Rumple turned the doorknob and went inside the study, not minded to make Baelfire suffer the agony of waiting any longer for his punishment.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"An' what happened next, Papa?" Davina asked. "Did Granpa spank you?"

Bae opened his mouth to continue with the story when Rennie said, "You can find out after dinner, little minx."

"Is it suppertime already?" her husband asked, looking up at the clock on the mantle.

"Aww, but Mama!" Davina groaned. "Papa was just gettin' to the really good part!"

"The really good part's when I'm in trouble?" Bae chuckled.

"Yup!" Davina stated. "Jus' like me!"

"Then that's a good place to stop," Rennie said firmly. "Now come on, you two, come eat your supper before it gets cold."

"You heard your mom, Davina," Bae told his daughter. "I'll finish after supper."

"Before I go to bed?"

"Yes."

"Pwomise?"

"I promise. Now let's eat that wonderful ham and bean and bread your mom made."

"I helped!" his daughter declared. "I got Mama the salt n' the 'lasses."

"The 'lasses?" Bae repeated.

"She means molasses," Rennie translated.

"You put molasses in that stew?" her husband wrinkled his nose.

"No, silly! I put molasses in the cookies I made for dessert," his wife laughed, "and a pinch of salt in the bread before I kneaded it."

"You made cookies? You didn't tell me that," Bae said, going over to sit at his place at the table.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Rennie sighed.

"Oops! I forgot!" Davina blurted.

"It's okay. I ought to know better than to try and keep a secret around a two-year-old. Like your Grammy always says _little pitchers have big ears,_" Rennie said ruefully, and helped Davina to sit on her chair, which had a pillow on it so she could reach the table.

Once they had all eaten the delicious stew, bread with butter, and some molasses cookies with goat's milk, Bae washed the dishes while Rennie fed Gabe the leftovers and took the puppy out for the night. As the dishes dried on a towel, he led his intrepid child down the hall to her bedroom, with its pale pink walls decorated with rosebuds and teasets, and soft white curtains framed a small round window. Dolls of all kinds shared space with wooden animals on a shelf above a bookcase filled with picture books, while a teaset that mirrored her grandmother's white porcelain with blue flowers sat on a table beside some crayons and paper.

There he helped Davina get changed into her rosebud nightgown, little ruffled cap, and fuzzy wool socks. "There you go! Snug as a bug in a rug!"

"Can I hear the rest of the 'tory now, Papa?" begged the little girl.

"All right. But first you need to get in bed," he told her.

Davina scurried across the floor and jumped onto her little daybed, which Bae had carved for her from white oak. The bed had a heart shaped headboard and vines with roses carved in the center of it. A pretty quilt with an Icy Star pattern in various colors and prints made by Rennie covered the bed, it had been stuffed with Sunny's hair, and was extra warm and cozy. A plump pillow of goosedown covered by a matching pillowcase waited for Davina to place her little head on it, while her green blankie and favorite stuffed unicorn, a gift from her Aunt Clary, sat sentry to one side of it. "I'm in bed, Papa!" the little imp sang, bouncing up and down and giggling.

"I don't think so," Bae said, and then he crawled on the floor, growling, "If a certain little girl doesn't get in bed right now . . . the big bad wolf is going to eat her all up!" He gave a rather realistic howl, learned from Ruby, and bared his teeth, saying gruffly, "And he'll start with her toes!"

"No!" Davina yelped, and pulled her feet up just before Bae pretended to bite them. "Go 'way big bad woof!" She yanked off her slippers and threw them at him.

But her aim was terrible and they missed him by a mile.

Bae continued growling, "If I can't get your toes, little girl, then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!" He started huffing and puffing.

"No! No! You ain't knockin' _my_ house in!" Davina squealed. "I'll breaka you head!" Then she grabbed the pillow off her bed and smacked Bae over the head with it. "Take that! An'that! An' that!"

She whacked her father with the pillow several more times.

"Oh! I think I'm done for! It's all going dark!" he groaned and flopped over on the sheepskin rug before the bed.

"Yay!" Davina cheered. "The pwincess beated up the big bad woof again!" She looked up as Rennie came and stood by the door. "Mama, I won! I killed the big bad woof!"

"That's my brave girl!" Rennie praised. "But now it's time for all brave girls to go to sleep. Right, Papa?" She came in and put the pillow back where it belonged, and retrieved the little girl's slippers and put them neatly beside the dresser.

Bae rolled over and sat up. "Okay, my brave little soldier," he pulled back the quilt and the sheet beneath it, which smelled of lavender, and Davina crawled into bed. Then he tucked the covers snugly around the child and leaned on the edge of the bed.

"More 'tory, Papa! _Please_?"

"Okay, now hush," he ordered, and continued where he had left off.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Bae glanced up when his father entered the study, swallowing sharply. There was a lump in his throat as big as a marble and he blinked his eyes rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He was twelve years old, far too big to start bawling like a little kid just because he was in trouble. Even if it was the worst trouble he'd ever been in and he was sure his father was going to take him over his knee for breaking his word and touching his magic hat.

Rumple didn't speak to his son at first, instead removing a key from about his neck and going to the glass cabinet behind his desk and unlocking it. Inside the cabinet were some of his very powerful spellbooks, an obsidian dagger, and now he added the blue hat to the shelf. The sorcerer closed the cabinet, locked it, and put the key around his neck before turning around and giving his son a look that conveyed vast disappointment and reproof.

The look struck Bae like an arrow to the heart, and he hung his head and stared at the floor. He almost wished his father were the kind that yelled at him instead of giving him a look that made him turn into a lump of quivering guilt. But that had never been Rumplestiltskin's way. He could do more with a single glance than most people could with an entire lecture.

"Look at me, Baelfire."

Bae forced his gaze up.

Rumplestiltskin stood behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest, the picture of parental disapproval.

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"What are you sorry for? The fact that you disobeyed me or the fact that I caught you?" he queried sharply.

"Both. I . . . I can explain."

"Then do so."

Bae licked his lips. Where to start? He sniffed sharply. Then he said, "I . . . I know it was wrong to touch the hat. But I . . . I just wanted to . . . to . . . pretend . . . for a little bit . . . that I had magic . . . like you do. That I was a great sorcerer."

Rumple's countenance softened slightly. "I see. Was that the only reason?"

Baelfire gulped. He could have lied and said yes, but he was not accustomed to doing so. His father had taught him better and he knew that any punishment he'd earned would become worse by lying. No, better to just own up to his mistakes and take his punishment like a man.

"No, sir," he admitted quietly. "I . . . I also thought I could . . . use the hat to do my chores so I could . . . get done quickly and do something fun, like practice with my sword."

"Baelfire, how many times have I told you that magic isn't to be played around with?"

"A lot."

"Why did I tell you that?"

"Because . . . magic can be dangerous. And . . . all magic comes with a price," he recited.

"Yes. And what price did the hat ask of you before you used it?"

"I . . . don't know. I just put it on and . . . it told me to command it."

"And _that_ is why you should never touch magical objects without my permission, young man!" Rumple scolded. "Because you don't think about the consequences. You just react. You just think about what the magic can do for you, and not what it could demand of you in return. You've seen what magic's price demanded of me when I used the dagger without counting the cost of vengeance. I became a monster, I lost myself to anger and hate. That should have taught you a good lesson about thinking before you acted."

Bae dropped his eyes to the floor again. "I know, Papa. I . . . I was stupid."

"Yes, you were reckless and foolish," his father agreed. "By putting the hat on without knowing the price beforehand, you could have killed yourself. The hat is very old, lad, and in order to use it properly you need to be a master magic wielder." He reached out a hand and gently pulled his son's head up, frowning as he examined the boy's forehead, which had a faint red line across it. "Did the hat do that to you, Bae?"

"Huh?"

"This," he gently traced the red line with his finger.

Bae flinched. "Oww!"

"It burned you, son."

"I couldn't get it off, Papa. I tried . . . but it was like it was stuck on my head. And it grew hot when I touched it."

"Because you hadn't asked magic's price beforehand, it took it from you," Rumple murmured. "By siphoning off some of your energy. Gods, lad, you were lucky that's all it did." He shivered, suddenly cold to the marrow of his bones. Then he snapped, "You risked your neck to skive off washing a few dishes and scrubbing a floor! I cannot believe you were so foolish! I thought I taught you better than that."

Bae flinched, as the disappointment in his father's tone cut him worse than a whip. "You did. I just . . . thought . . ."

"You thought you could use magic to solve everything, like so many would-be magicians do," Rumple finished. "And like so many do, you found out the hard way it's not so."

Bae nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked hopefully at his father.

The Gold sorcerer snorted. "Quit looking at me like that. Giving me puppy dog eyes isn't going to get you out of a well-earned punishment. I ought to take you over my knee right now and wallop the daylights out of you for doing what you did . . . but I think you deserve something more than a spanking, Baelfire Gold. You've made a wreck out of our home and scared the blazes out of me and your brother and sister. And a mere spanking won't fix any of that. So . . . you're going to remove the rest of the water downstairs by hand . . . and scrub the floor for the next two weeks as well. "

"Two _weeks_?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No, Papa. But . . . how do I clean up all that water?"

"I'll vanish enough of it so you can do the rest with a mop and a bucket. That ought to take you a few hours . . . and make you think before you ever touch any of my magical objects again."

Bae groaned softly. But the punishment was fair, even if he hated it. He turned to leave, intending to start on it as soon as possible.

Rumple came around the desk then and put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, son. Let me put something on your head."

He sat Bae down in a chair and gently smoothed on some healing salve, watching in relief as the burn vanished after he did so. "How's that feel?"

"Better. I'm really sorry," Bae said, feeling compelled to apologize yet again.

"You ought to be," said his father . . . then he reached out and hugged his son to him. "But I forgive you, you silly sorcerer's apprentice! But the gods help you if you ever do something like this again."

Bae pressed his face into Rumple's tunic, inhaling the familiar scents of wool, mint, and spiced aftershave that always clung to his father. Those smells always represented safety and comfort to him. As did the feel of his father's sinewy arms about him, holding him close. Even knowing the wretched task that awaited him downstairs didn't lessen the feeling of comfort he always got from Rumple holding him, and the hug was even more welcome knowing his father forgave him for his disobedience.

After a few more moments, Bae drew away from Rumple and left the study, heading downstairs to begin removing the water from the floor. . .

" . . . it took me almost three hours to clean up the mess I'd made by trying to use the hat to finish what I should have done myself in the first place," Bae concluded. "By the time I was done I ached all over as if I'd been beaten black and blue, but I had learned my lesson. I never touched anything I wasn't supposed to again, especially not anything magical."

Davina looked up at him sleepily. "That was a good 'tory, Papa."

"And did it help you remember not to touch what doesn't belong to you?"

"Uh huh. I'm never touchin' nothin' of Granpa's ever!"

Rennie looked at Bae and started snickering.

"Uh . . . yeah, that's good, Davina . . ." Bae said, realizing that maybe he was expecting too much from a mere two-year-old. He smiled at his baby girl, whose eyes were slowly shutting. He bent and kissed her forehead, murmuring, "Sweet dreams, my pretty princess. I love you."

"Love you too," the little girl said, yawning. "Night night, Papa!" Then she looked about for Rennie as well. "Mama?"

"Here I am, little minx!" her mother said, then she bent and kissed the little cheek Davina presented to her, saying, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the goblins bite."

"Night, Mama. Love you." Davina's eyes were at half mast now, and she sucked a corner of her blankie.

"Love you too, baby girl," Rennie whispered tenderly. She waited until Davina's eyes had shut before she left the room.

Bae followed soon after, leaving a small night lamp glowing, just in case Davina woke during the night and needed to use the bathroom. He walked a few steps down the hallway to their bedroom, meeting up with Rennie inside of it.

Rennie laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you tried. And I think she got the gist of it . . . at least for now. But you'll probably have to repeat it again when she's older."

"But hopefully not after she touches my sword," her husband remarked.

"Gods forbid!" his wife muttered. She removed her apron and shoes, then turned to her husband and said, "Bae, love, would you unbutton my dress?"

He grinned and began undoing the row of buttons, knowing full well just what that would lead to, and looking forward to it with the same excitement he did a good sword fight.

Rennie stepped out of her dress, then turned to her husband, clad only in her chemise and stockings and murmured, "Have I told you lately how much I love you, my sorcerer's apprentice?"

"You have," he said, tugging his tunic over his head. "But you ought to know I never tire of hearing you say it, my lovely goose girl." His fingers flew down the buttons of his shirt until it too was shrugged off. Then he took his wife in his arms and kissed her passionately, showing her without words how she had captured his heart so long ago, and how she kept it still, safe and sound, next to her own.

He gently drew her towards their bed, for the night was young and they had hours yet till morning. They indulged themselves happily as the moon drifted high in the sky and their child slept, dreaming childish dreams of sugar cookies, princesses, and sorcerers wearing blue hats and making mops dance while the collie puppy slept curled on the rug beside her bed.


End file.
